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He was lonely.
Han Jisung was lonely.
And cold, for a matter of fact. Freezing.
But that's not going to change any time soon, and he’s accepted that.
The wind blew against his face. His hair was flying in all directions and at some point he had stopped shivering, but that doesn’t matter. He was hanging on the edge of a rope, dangling from a cliff that had been slowly eroding for most of his life. He was so close to giving up, and this had just been the final strike.
He used to be a bright and sunny kid, but as life went on, he lost his spark. His parents didn’t pay attention to him, but it wasn’t like he was abused or anything. He feels some guilt for disliking them when they didn’t do anything. Very literally. They did end up kicking him out though. His job has little pay, the work conditions sucked, and they got way too many sketchy customers for him to feel safe.
He was surviving though, and he thought he was doing fine until a week ago he couldn't muster up the strength to get out of bed. A few days later, when he finally checked his emails, he saw his missing assignments and absences. He then realized he had not wanted to live for quite some time now.
It's not like he didn’t try to fix his fucked up life. He tried. He really tried, but it got nowhere except a little less money for food that month.
And he hated everything.
He hated his life. He hated his sexuality, He hated how he looked. He hated the world. He hated his parents, even before they kicked him out. He already wasn’t very mentally stable from the constant neglect he faced, and once he finally got enough courage to come out he was thrown out onto the streets. His home was now his apartment and roommate.
But even after so much time he was still alone and nobody cared. Everyone that was once close to him showed him that. He was left behind in the dust, almost talked into doing illegal things for someone. His first girlfriend broke up with him a few months into the relationship, claiming he was “too high maintenance,” and “overwhelming”. He was forced back into the closet after spending so much time trying to open the doors. It was clear he was of no worth. Throughout his whole life he was just used and discarded over and over and over and over, it got to him eventually.
No one cared for him.
Except maybe Minho, the pretty boy being one of his only friends. Not really a friend, he thinks. Just a person who doesn't treat him like shit- and it's not a very high bar. That’s as close as he’ll get. The Minho, who waves to him whenever they cross paths on campus, the Minho with a voice like honey and a love for his cats more than humanity. The Minho with sharp eyes, soft rosy lips, and a face kissed with such beauty and sculpted in a way that puts Aphrodite to shame.
Shutting down that train of thought, the bit of red on Jisung’s face dissipates, and so he’s left with only his thoughts once again. Jisung isn’t even sure if Minho even likes him or is just tolerating Jisung.
Or maybe his roommate and actual friend, Felix, would care. It’s not like Felix knows anything though. Jisung thinks that he might have suspicions, but he doesn't think Felix actual knows how fucked up his life is. At least he sure Felix cares in the slightest. Jisung harbors a slight thankfulness for the boy though, unknowing to Felix he once stopped Jisung from taking his life.
(“Hey Sungie, you doing ok?” Felix had asked, unknowing of the bottle of pills hidden underneath the blanket Jisung had quickly pulled up.
“Uh- Yeah Lix, I’m doing fine…” It was clear Felix didn’t believe him, but he chose not to pry too much.
“Alright, just remember, you can always come to me if you want to talk, ok? I’m gonna make some dinner now, I’ll come get you once I finish.”
Jisung had promptly decided to end it all some other time, somewhere where Felix wouldn’t see. He didn’t want to traumatize the ball of sunshine with the sight of a dead body. He already felt like he was a burden and he didn’t want his death to weigh on Felix’s consciousness.)
But one thing both Felix and Minho have are social lives. Both Felix and Minho are in a dance group together, and he knows they can both sing really well. Jisung knows they're both going to go so far in their lives, and it would be better if they just left Jisung behind.
They have so much promise and Jisung is just… Jisung.
Worthless Jisung.
Stupid Jisung.
A burden Jisung.
He’s not even sure if either Felix or Minho care about him. What is he thinking, why would they? What is there to care about in Jisung? He knows he’s not the friendliest person, or the kindest, and with how fucked up he is… Maybe that's why Felix is rarely at home. He had been away for the past two weeks, so he wasn’t able to see Jisung’s terrible depressive episode.
And Minho would get over him. He would quickly forget about the quiet boy who reeked of unshed tears and anguish, even if it was covered up with other perfumes. It's not like Jisung was a huge part of his life either. They hang out sometimes, but Minho has friends he has been with for years. Jisung becoming just a name written on a gravestone buried among other bodies wouldn’t matter to him, or anyone really.
He laughs dryly thinking about it, eyes empty with no more tears left to shed. His grip on the concrete edge of the building tightening.
The city sparkled below him like the fairy lights that he used to have hung up around his bed. He swung his legs mindlessly over the edge, staring up at the sky. Instead of the beautiful milky way and constellations, he is greeted with darkness. Emptiness instead of the whole sea of lights he hoped for. If only the sky reflected the land, then he could at least trick his eyes into thinking he was seeing stars. It’s pitiful, he thinks. Looking at the stars was one of Jisung’s favorite things to do.
He and his parents would drive two hours out to stargaze in a field far away from society when he was younger- at least before everything went to shit he means, but now it's less of an enjoyment and more of an escape until he walks back down the stairs to his room and an even more pitiful life. Not like he was planning to get down from the building by using the stairs this time, anyways.
He wondered what Minho would think if he saw him like this. On his last wit, feet dangling off the edge of a building, a moment away from stepping off the ledge into freefalling. He would probably scoff and walk away, like everyone else in his life, or he wouldn't care at all. Maybe looking up, he wouldn’t notice Jisung just because of how invisible he was.
But even if it was a small fantasy he would like to imagine that he would pull Jisung off of the ledge, and help him not fall and sink into the abyss of his mind for good. That he would save him from everything in his mess of a life. That won't happen though. The rest of his life is already too fucked up for him to even belive that there is any escape.
His only home is his apartment, and he’s rarely there anyways, off working odd jobs aside from his actual one to try to save up money to move out instead. As you can probably guess, shit boss, shit conditions. The pay isn’t too terrible at least, but because of the price of everything in this day and age, it wasn't enough. He would try to get a better job but he couldn't afford to be unemployed for even a second, and so he was stuck in a neverending loop. He could only keep going for so long.
And when he’s at the apartment he’s exhausted, but Felix leaves him leftover pastries that he’s baked- which is pretty nice. Felix isn’t home a lot of the time as well. He’s at his boyfriend Hyunjin’s dorm a majority of the time. Jisung doesn't see him too much. He's at Hyunjin’s dorm so much to the point where Jisung wonders if Felix is planning to move in with Hyunjin once he finishes college. Felix probably will. He has loving friends, a caring family in Australia that checks up on him every day, and a partner that would sacrifice everything for him, and vice versa.
Why wouldn't he?
Aside from sinking into his thoughts and feelings, Jisung writes music and poetry as a form of escape. It helps him with a place to drain his tears. It’s hard for some people to understand, but once you start crying, the tears start to make a puddle. If you have a place to cry or a way to dry the puddle, you’ll survive, but if not-
The water level will keep rising, and rising, and rising until you drown.
Poetry and music is Jisung’s place to pour the tears into. It’s been his only way to not drown, but it's not working as much anymore. The bucket to cry in is starting to fill, starting to overflow. The tears have been going on for so long that even music can't help.
Jisung had stopped shivering a long while ago, but he couldn't find it in himself to really care. The rather light layers of clothing he put on doing nothing to stop the chill from seeping into his bones after sitting on the roof for who knows how long.
Sighing, he gives up on trying to see anything in the sky, instead fishing out his notebook from his bag. I should at least leave a note in my pocket, he thinks. Opening it up, he flips through the pages of raw emotion, opening to the last entry of writing. After a moment of hesitation, he just simply stops. Nothing super special, he just stills and breaks down.
A tear falls. Then another. Then another. Soon, it's like a flood. Small drops stain the paper as he drowns, and drowns. Jisung’s small little box of life filled with tears, leaving him with no room to breathe. Ripping out a piece of paper with shaky hands, he quickly writes down a note. Trying to keep his hands steady, he wipes his eyes, breath still shaky and uneven no matter how hard he tries to control it.
This is Han Jisung, apartment number xxx. If you find this note, please donate all my belongings, they are of no use anymore.
Tucking the note into his pocket, he puts his notebook back in his bag. He already had a suicide note on his bed with a bit of money in it for Felix. That one was a bit more intimate, with details for what to do after his death, but who knows when he would actually find it.
And so he's ready to end it. He's ready to step away from this life, and move into a place where he can find comfort. And what’s more comforting than the warm embrace of death? A small smile graces Jisung’s lips for the first time since he could remember. He stands up- only now noticing the stiffness in his body- looking at the sky for the final time. His fluffy hair a wet, oily mess from the wind and lack of care for it, eyes red and shimmering with unshed tears, fingers numb from the cold more bitter than the most bitter coffee you could imagine. It was the dead of night, and the middle of the winter, what could he expect?
He closes his eyes, imagining a sky full of shining stars above him instead of the sad reality. He sits up, numb from the cold and also his way of life. Smiling for the final time, he lifts a foot. He lets himself fall forward.
Tic
Toc
Tic
Toc
Tic-
“HAN JISUNG!”
A hand grabs at the hood of his sweater, making him yelp as he’s yanked backwards with so much force his head spins- that might actually be the effect of the little amount of food he’s been eating, but Jisung’s not sure. He hits the ground with a thud and he blinks black dots out of his eyes. Once he focuses enough he can make out a familiar figure in front of him holding his shoulders. It feels as if suddenly he has turned to ice, irrational fear running through his veins.
No
Nononononono, this wasn’t supposed to happen, no one was supposed to find him.
“Hyung-” Before he can finish, it feels as if all the air was blown out of his lungs. Minho pulls him forward and crashes his lips against his. Time stops. It’s nothing and everything like he imagined. Soft lips pressed against his rough chapped ones. Jisung feels bad, if only he had put on lip balm beforehand. Just for a moment, it was them on the roof, kissing during the night. It was special. Time never stopped for anyone, no matter who it was, no matter what they wanted. At that moment, it was just peace for a couple of seconds.
But it ends just as quickly as it starts.
Minho pulls away, an expression of pure terror on his face. His eyes are filled with… Anger and… tears?
“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING!” He yells, pulling him into a bone crushing embrace. Jisung feels nothing but warmth, the bitter cold disappearing while he simply lets himself fall into Minho’s arms. He’ll pretend they didn’t kiss under these circumstances, and during a happier time.
“ANSWER ME JISUNG, WHY DID YOU JUST- JUST…” Minho stops, not wanting to finish the sentence, like saying it would make it come true.
Why is he upset? Jisung feels a pang of guilt, the thought of him making Minho cry was a terrible thought. Minho- the most beautiful person and the only one who cared about Jisung didn't deserve to cry.
Jisung sits there, holding onto Minho, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. His knees dig into the rough, cold concrete of the building, but he pays no attention to the pain.
“Hyung, I’m cold…” He whispers, tears falling. Quickly, he tries to blink them away, not wanting to get Minho’s very, very warm scarf even a little bit wet.
Threading a hand through Jisung’s hair, Minho’s voice quiets, close to a whisper. “I know, Jagiya, I know…” He whispers, and Jisung breaks. His voice is soft, and laced with a balance of desperation and grief that Minho was not able to hide. Maybe he wasn’t even trying to hide it at all.
Tears that had been shed alone for years break loose. A sob was ripped out of his throat as Jisung started to shake- maybe he was already shaking beforehand? He couldn’t tell.
The only thing he could tell was the cold. The unbearable cold biting into his skin, the cold seeping into his bloodstream, the ice forming around him and freezing Jisung solid. The ice that refused to thaw. It kept him in place, keeping him stuck in the present, while everyone around him moved on into the future. He would be stuck in the past for his whole life, everything around him moving too fast, too quickly. He was alone. Alone, and so cold.
A warm hand wiping away some of his tears brings Jisung back to reality.
“You there Jisung-ah?” Minho asks, patting his back.. After no response from the stiff boy, Minho lets out a shaky sigh. “C’mon, let's get you somewhere a bit warmer. Want to go to my dorm? We could have a sleepover, and you won’t have to worry about everything for at least a little bit.” Eyes flickering up to Minho's face, Jisung notices a couple things.
One, Minho is holding Jisung’s face as if he was a porcelain doll. Maybe he was a porcelain doll. Kicked around and forgotten far too many times with cracks running right down the middle, held together by thin flimsy pieces of tape.
Two, unshed tears were shining in his eyes. Even under the nonexistent starlight, the city below them lit up the roof, making it bright enough to see each other.
Three, Minho was beautiful. His eyes looked more beautiful than a million galaxies. More beautiful than the most beautiful shooting star he had ever seen. It probably isn’t the right time to be thinking these thoughts, but after Jisung had gone up to the roof not expecting to ever see that face again, he was absolutely perfect in every way.
Jisung nods, burying his face into Minho’s scarf again, content to just stay there until he finally freezes to death. But he knows that Minho wouldn't let that happen. He can feel hypothermia creeping up on him. He already lost feeling in his fingers and toes long ago, and Jisung doesn’t think that's really good. Minho will probably take him inside like he said he would. The pain from the cold isn’t unbearably bad, but bad enough to be rather unpleasant. Jisung would rather Minho take him inside at this point, or just let him finish the job.
He came up here without any thoughts on if he survived. The jump from the relatively tall building would take care of him, but now that he’s sure Minho wouldn’t just tell him to jump and say “about time” Jisung is a bit concerned about what would happen if he got frostbite.
Minho might have stopped him from jumping at this moment, but he was still in pain. Still frozen solid. Still suffering. But with how warm the older boy was, it feels as if a bit of the pain was lifted.
“Why…” Jisung whispers, not even sure if Minho heard him until the boy’s grip on him tightens, a subtle encouragement to continue. “Why… Why did you stop me..?”
Hearing the boy's voice hitch, Jisung curls in on himself. It was a bad idea to ask that, wasn't it?
“Jisung, what do you mean, why?” He sounded pained, but Jisung was genuinely confused. Why would Minho stop him?
Jisung shrugs, tears starting to fall again. “Why, just why? Is it wrong for me to want to end my suffering?” He just doesn’t get it. He should be allowed to be selfish for once after the shit he got for being selfless.
“Jisung that's not-” He sighs, pulling away. Still holding the smaller boy, Minho’s grip loosens, running a hand through the younger boy’s hair. “Lets… Let's just go inside for now. We- We can talk later about this, ok? When it's not so cold, and soon the snow will start to come down harder. A nice, warm blanket sounds good, right?”
Is it snowing? Jisung didn’t even notice, but now that's all he can feel and think about. The soft feeling of each snowflake landing on his skin. Minho says something else, but he doesn’t hear.
He was focused on the snow and just the snow. Who knows how long he had been out here. Definitely not Jisung. He had snuck onto the roof around noon, and who knows how long ago that was. Time slipped through his fingers when he felt like this. He knew he wasn’t dressed warm enough, and it was past midnight by now.
He feels himself being shaken, gasping softly as the dark spots that he didn’t even notice gathering (just like the snow around him-) in his vision were pushed back slightly. Jisung tries to move, but it feels like his body weighs more than his own consciousness does. He quickly finds himself falling under the same sudden drowsiness, head spinning before he starts to close his eyes. Started awake by a pinch to his arm, the numbness from his skin dulling the sharp pain.
He looks up, eyes drooping. Jisung’s not sure what he wants his last words to be, but he wants Minho to know how much he loves him. “Minho, you’re beautiful. Prettier than the stars I used to see…” He whispers, not even sure if he said anything at all. Said boy picks him up easily, lifting him into his arms, Jisung’s head lolls against Minho’s chest. Even in Jisung’s state of delirium he can tell Minho is panicked. Breath fast and shaky, the opposite of Jisung’s slow shallow breathing. Minho’s chest is moving up and down at an alarming rate.
Minho says something else, but his eyes flutter shut and suddenly sleep seems much nicer than staying awake and listening.
To Jisung, this situation feels so overwhelming. It would’ve been fine if he were to just die from hypothermia. Amazing, even. It would’ve been the most ideal situation since he didn’t get to jump, but he didn’t.
Instead, he’s been laying awake for the past ten minutes on Minho’s couch while said boy lays asleep across from him. Minho looks like shit and Jisung feels a sting of guilt knowing he was the cause of it. Jisung thinks that it's a little hypocritical to say Minho looks like shit considering Jisung doesn’t need a mirror to see how bad he looks. While Minho looks really tired, he still manages to look pretty, while Jisung could probably be mistaken for a corpse. His skin is pale and sickly from the lack of sunlight he’s seen in the past couple of months, a stark contrast to the dark bags under his eyes. His skin is pale and sickly from the lack of sunlight he’s seen in the past couple of months, a stark contrast to the dark bags under his eyes. His skin is littered with acne and his hair has grown out. He was heavily underweight and hadn’t seen a doctor in a year.
Jisung’s eyes hurt, but no matter how long he keeps them closed the sting refuses to go away. It's fine… He figures, bloodshot eyes blinking away tears. The pain fits the vibe of the rest of my life. The rest of his life. The promise of a rest of his life excited Jisung a little. As much as he doubted any reason to live, he wished that he had one.
Instead of dwelling on his future, he decided to keep watching the sleeping boy in front of him. Minho’s lips parted slightly, and his chest slowly moved up and down with his breaths. His face was slack, lips parted as he let out slow, steady breaths. There was no way to describe it, Minho was just so, so beautiful. It looked like someone had carved his face from a smooth piece of marble, making every detail picture perfect.
Jisung dozed off, just admiring the gorgeous boy that was sleeping across from him. He had no idea how long he had stared at Minho, but soon, his eyes started fluttering shut one more time.
The pain of staying awake soon drifted off, and so did Jisung.
Across from him, it's Minho’s turn to watch Jisung. His eyes follow Jisung’s breaths, making sure they're steady. He watches his chest rise and fall for a few minutes, in a way making sure this was real and that Jisung is alive. A single tear makes its way down his cheek, and he has to blink away the wetness in his eyes.
When Jisung wakes up once more, it smells of food. A sweet smell, and it makes his mouth water. He rubs his eyes, and sits up. Jisung yawns and he blinks away tears. The first thing he notices is the distinct lack of Minho sleeping across from him. He sits for a bit, his brain taking a second to catch up to his surroundings.
A head pokes out of the kitchen, and there is Minho.
“Morning, I’m making food, do you think you want to eat now, or do you want to eat later?” He says, stepping out from behind the wall.
Jisung’s face heats up the slightest when he sees that Minho is wearing a tank top (that shows off way too much of his unfairly muscular arms) and a cute apron with cats on it. He still had some of his bed head, hair sticking out in all directions. He looked adorable.
“Jisung?” Minho asked, snapping him out of his muscle induced daze.
“Uh- Yeah, yeah I’m ready to eat.” He stutters out, embarrassed at his lack of response. His face was probably bright red at this point.
Minho laughs fondly, and seems weirdly amused. “Alright, come out when you’re ready.” He says before disappearing into the kitchen again.
Jisung promptly buried his face into a pillow- he would scream but then Minho would hear him and he doesn’t want Minho to hear him. He flushes even more when he realizes he is wearing Minho’s clothes. He sits up- And suddenly he feels cold. Ice prickles into his veins and he freezes. That means-
“Oh fuck.” He whispers. Minho had seen him. Minho had seen him. Minho had seen him. Minho saw him when he was at the lowest point in his life (and technically the highest as well because he was on the roof of a building). Minho saw him break down. Minho had changed him, so he had seen his scars as well. His breath had picked up, breathing in quick and shallow breaths. “Fuck- fuck- fuck- fuck-”
He grips at his hair, and tries to focus his breathing. Why was he still here, why was he not a body on the ground-
the sound of Minho shouting and the sound of something falling brings him back to earth. Minho was waiting for him in the kitchen. His eyes darted all around the room, gaze blank and panicked. Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out… He thought. His heart was racing, blood pumping through his veins as he gasped for air with wide eyes. Holding his breath for four seconds, and exhaling for five, repeating that motion until he was calmer. Once his heart had finally settled, he wiped his eyes and hoped he didn’t look too much like a mess. He carefully stood up on trembling legs. He held the couch with a death grip as he swayed dangerously.
He took an experimental step forward before letting go, able to walk semi-normally now. His feet patted softly against the floor. As soon as he entered the kitchen, Minho looked over. His face was fine, but the rest of him not so much. His apron and his arms were covered in flour. His hair too.
If Minho noticed anything about his red rimmed eyes, he didn’t say anything. “Jisung-ah, can you pass me a wet wipe? This monster-” He pauses to glare at the culprit of the crime. Dori is sitting on the floor, peacefully licking himself as he shares a similar flour-covered look as Minho. “-Decided to cause a disaster and ruin my cooking. Pancakes will still be ready momentarily.” Jisung lets out a small laugh, and Minho looks at him like the most amazing music has blessed his ears. Minho smiles, and turns back to whisking a bowl while humming a song that his dance group is covering.
Jisung grabs a wipe from next to the sink, and he passes it to Minho. He takes one for himself as well, and starts slowly wiping the counter. He gives Dori a pat when Dori curls up to his legs, tracking flour all over the floor and his pants. “Minho Hyung?” Jisung says softly. Minho hums in response, eyes flickering over to Jisung. “Shouldn’t we talk about… You know?” As much as Jisung would love to stay in the small domestic bubble, it was for the best if they were to just sort through this quickly so jisung could go back to his apartment.
Minho falters, expression falling for a bit as he pauses. “Yes, we should, but let's do it after breakfast. It’ll be better if we talk with food in our bodies. Here, go pick some music. I left your phone charging on the couch since it had died.” He says, choosing his words carefully. As if Jisung was made of glass, a cup threatening to spill over if shaken too much.
Jisung nods- though it's more of a jerk of his head. He steps away, tossing the wipe into the trash can as he passes it. He walks back into the living room, spotting the phone resting at the foot of his makeshift bed for last night. He picks up his phone and he winces when the bright light of his screen turns on. He rubs at his eyes,
Almost immediately the phone starts ringing. The vibrations are loud in the otherwise quiet room. Jisung winces, fingers fumbling to answer the call. He sees the number, and he freezes.
He held the phone up to his ear, and all he could hear was shaky breaths from the other side.
“Jisung..?” Felix's voice comes on the other end.
Jisung laughs, a small chuckle. “Hey…”
He could hear a sob. “Thank god you picked up… Jisung, where are you, please- please come home-” It was interrupted by a faint shout. “He picked up!” Felix responded to the person offscreen, voice filled with pure panic and relief.
Jisung’s breath hitches. He wrote a note to Felix. A detailed note on how he wouldn’t be seeing Jisung around anymore.
“Sungie, where- where are you? I’ll- I’ll come pick you up, you- you…” It breaks off with a loud cry.
Jisung’s heart breaks. “Felix, I- I’m ok. I’m at Minho’s place, I’m safe.”
Felix’s unsteady breaths and broken off sobs only get louder at those words. “I’ve been calling you for hours… You- you weren’t picking up and- and no one had seen you, and, and… I- I saw your note and how you were going to go up to the- the roof and I just…” Felix’s phone clatters to the floor, but he picks it up. “I went up and you weren’t there, I- I thought I was too late.. I thought I lost you… Jisung, I- I thought you were already…”
The tears pricking at his eyes fell. Jisung had never meant to cause this much pain, he thought once he died he would cause less stress. “Felix, please- I- I’m so sorry, please don't cry. I’m not worth crying over and I’m not in trouble, you don’t- you don’t need to worry about me. I’m with Minho and you can just pick me up in an hour, ok?” Jisung musters up, his own breath uncertain.
Felix laughs, a dry, bitter laugh that reeks of pain. “Jisung, Sungie, no- I- Don’t- Don’t say you’re not worth crying over… You- you are one of the most amazing people I have ever met… You don’t know how worried I was, how worried I’ve been. You’ve been slowly dying before my eyes and I didn’t even do anything about it… I should be the one apologizing, you just- you just tried to kill yourself, and I’m here babbling about how I was worried. Jisung, you’re not worthless, you are so amazing and I hate that so many people took advantage of that. Tell Minho that I’ll be over in half an hour, I love you so much…”
Felix ends the call, the beep echoing through Jisung’s mind. His eyes are still wet, tears trickling out in a steady stream. He crumples to the ground, shaking. He wipes at his eyes, but it's futile. He doesn’t even know why he’s crying. Nothing happened to him, he understands why Felix was crying. Felix thought his friend had died, and was in denial. Jisung was just there. Nothing crazy had happened to him.
As if he sensed the anguish surrounding Jisung, Minho walked through the door as soon as Jisung hit the ground. He quickly rushed over to Jisung, where he was curled up on the floor with his head tucked in between his arms. Minho wrapped his arms around his shaking body, rubbing comforting circles on his back.
Jisung lifts his head, eyes red with tear stained cheeks. They hold eye contact until Jisung breaks down again, sobs tearing through his throat. He had thought he was done crying.
“ImsorryimsorryImsorryimsorry-” Jisung whispers, a phrase that he wishes would fix his mess. Minho shushes him.
“It’s ok, you’re ok.” Minho holds Jisung, keeping him in a steady grip.
Jisung doesn’t know how long they stay on the floor, but at some point all three of Minho’s cats come join as well. Soonie sits down on his feet, rubbing his head into Jisung’s leg. At that moment it was just them. No one else in the whole world…
…Until Dori jumped on Minho’s back and started clawing at him. Minho cried out, back arching as he quickly got up. Dori was flung off, and was lying on the floor. He had the audacity to stare at Minho like all of this was his fault, letting out a long annoyed meow.
Minho glared at the cat, “Dori! Now is not the time!” Jisung laughed softly- though it sounded more like a choked balloon than anything. Minho whips his head around, an absolutely delighted expression on his face. He laughs as well, and while there was still a lingering sense of sadness in the room, Dori's rude interruption had lightened the mood.
Jisung stood up, legs still shaky but he felt a bit better. “Felix will be here to pick me up soon. We should probably eat something beforehand.” He says, inhaling and exhaling slowly. They both walk to the kitchen, and Jisung takes a seat at the table. Minho brings over two plates of (now cold) pancakes, and he says to start eating while he makes some extras for Felix as well.
Jisung takes a bite, and it's really good. Minho places a container of pancakes on the counter and sits down next to Jisung. He starts eating his plate as well, and they sit in silence. Jisung wants to make conversation, but he can’t find the energy to do so.
It is a bit awkward but overall it's a more peaceful silence.
A knock at the door startles them both.
Minho quickly stands up, rushing to the door. Jisung hesitantly follows behind. Minho unlocks the door and Felix immediately bursts in. He frantically looks around, entering the house without even taking off his shoes.
“Jisung! Oh my fucking god-” He yells as soon as he sees said boy. Felix tackles him, pulling him into the tightest hug physically possible. Jisung’s mind runs at a hundred miles per hour.
What is going on.
Jisung awkwardly pats Felix on the back, loosely wrapping his arms around him. Felix is shaking, shivering like he was just in a cold so freezing it set his nerves on fire.
“Jisung, Jisung, Jisung…” He repeats like a mantra, getting close to sounding hysterical. “I- I thought- you- your note…” Jisung tightens his grip.
“I’m sorry…” He whispers, guilt coursing through his veins. He feels lightheaded, he never meant to cause this much grief and tears. He thought they would get over him. “I’m so, so sorry Felix…”
“Don’t be sorry,” Felix murmurs into his shoulder. Felix pulls away, tears glimmering on his cheeks. “You’ll be ok.”
He won’t be ok. He won’t be ok for a long time, but that's fine.
Jisung spaces out, and he can feel himself get led over to the couch. He sits down, and both Felix and Minho are sitting besides him.
They sit in thick silence.
Tic
Minho’s cat clock on the wall mocks him, staring into his soul.
Toc
Felix speaks first. “Jisung, baby…”
Tic
Jisung tenses, ready for a reprimand. He feels (knows) that Felix would never scold him, but he’s still prepared for the worst.
Toc
He gets pulled into a hug again. He melts into Felix’s hold. “Jisung, please tell us what weighs you down. We’re here for you.” Jisung tenses again.
“I’m sorry.” He mutters.
“Please don’t be sorry, you have nothing to apologize for. Just tell us why.”
Minho holds his hand. Jisung knows that it will be painful to tear open all his bandaids, but if a bone heals wrong then the only way to fix it is to break it again so it sets right. “Ok.” He whispers. Minho squeezes his hand and pulls him close.
“I don’t really have anything to live for. My parents neglected me growing up, and I had to survive on scraps of their attention. The cherry on top was when they kicked me out when I told them I was bisexual. I have to work a crappy job to afford my part of the rent and college. I have no friends and Felix is never home. I’ve barely been getting by for a lot of my life, and a week ago I lost the courage to get out of bed in the morning. Who knows how long I laid there, until yesterday I checked my emails and saw my professors annoyed that I didn’t go to class. I didn’t want to live, so I did something about it.” At the last few words, Jisung starts crying again. His hands clumsily wipe at his eyes, and he curls into himself.
He watches Felix’s face crumple. Minho looks overwhelmed, and unbelievably sad.
“I’m so tired…” Jisung whispers between sobs.
Minho rubs a hand on his back. “I know, baby, I know…”
“I just want to be happy…” Jisung grabs onto, burying his face into Minho’s chest. Tears stain his cheeks and snot is smearing all over his face.
“I know, I know…” Minho mumbles.
“You don’t!” Jisung exclaims, almost hysterical. “You have no clue what I’m feeling, you have no clue what it’s like to wake up alone everyday and see the world in a dull color. You have no clue what it’s like to wake up wondering if any god out there will listen and let you get hit by a car on the way to your god forsaken job! I’m so tired and I- I…” Jisung breaks off, finger curling into the blankets.
“I just want to live…”
Minho breath hitches. He furiously wipes at his eyes, holding back tears. “I’m so sorry, Jagi, I’m so, so, so, so sorry…”
“Its not your fault,” Jisung mumbles, and Minho chokes out another sob.
“It is though, I should have been there for you, I should have seen that you were suffering so badly, I should have gone up to you and kissed you sooner… I love you so much and it hurts me to see you in so much pain…”
“I promise I’ll be home more, Hyunjin will understand. I’ll make you all of your favorite foods and I’ll cuddle you to death whenever you feel sad. We'll find you a new job and we’ll help you…” Felix adds, wiping his face with a tissue.
“I’m not worth it…” Jisung sobs.
“You are worth everything, and whoever made you think otherwise is completely wrong.”
“I’m just some nobody who got dealt the wrong cards in life…”
“You are not just a “nobody”, you are so bright and so amazing… I feel so much guilt that for a lot of the time I left you. You’re right, I’m never home and I don’t talk to you as much as I should.”
Jisung laughs. “Please don’t be sorry, you’ve cared and made food for me. I understand that Hyunjin is your boyfriend and I don’t want you to stop hanging out with him for me. I’m so grateful for you, and I don't want you to resent me. Don’t be guilty, a few months ago you stopped me from overdosing. You said you were making dinner right before I took the pills.”
Felix gasps, and Minho freezes. “So this isn’t your first attempt?” Minho says, and Jisung shakes his head.
“During high school I tried to slit my wrists and I had to repeat a year because I was in a mental hospital.” Jisung laughs bitterly, and Minho pulls him into a hug.
“Can I see them..?” Felix asks, and Jisung nods. He lifts up his sleeves, revealing two, white scars on his forearms. Jisung is sure that Minho had seen them prior, but his eyes were still sad. After a moment, Minho lifts Jisung’s arm up and places a featherlight kiss onto it.
“For good luck.” He says in response after Jisung gives him a confused look, and Jisung giggles softly.
“I don’t deserve you guys.” He whispers.
“You deserve the world, baby. You deserve all the love that we will give you, and you deserve a good life. I don’t care whatever that stupid head of yours makes you think-” he punctuates his words with a light smack on Jisung’s head, “-but you are worth more than anything. I don’t care what we have to do to make you happy, but it will be worth it just to see you smile.” Minho says with as much sincerity he can possibly fill his words with.
Smiling is hard, and Jisung knows it. It feels like his mouth and heart is weighed down by the world, but Minho has been able to pull out more laughs in a day than he has laughed in a month.
“Ok," Jisung replied softly. "I trust you both." He says after a small moment of hesitation. Minho sighs, and pulls him into a hug.
Felix joins as well, putting his arms around them. He pulls a blanket up, draping it over the three. Jisung’s eyes begin to close, and his breathing settles.
He had been drowning his whole life, and he doesn’t expect to stop soon, but he feels a little better at that moment. The warmth of two people that he now knows care about him lulls him into sleep. Dried tears cake their skin, and having a shower would probably be nice. No one makes any move to leave, though.
Jisung is safe, here in the arms of the people who love him, one of them half of his soul, and one of them is his family.